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Teacher's Night Out. (Part 3 of 3)

Part 3

After I had showered in Marion's flat, following wetting my panties for the second time in a drunken evening, (See Teachers Night Out Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 ) I tried to do something about sobering up and behaving more like the respectable, (middle-age) teacher I was normally. Marion, who was a few years older than most of the student teachers I had spent the evening drinking with, not only produced a mug of strong coffee, but some toast as well, as I was in dire need of something to soak up some of the evening's drink. I was still thinking that somehow I would go home when I had finished the coffee, but Marion, who was far more sober than me, put a stop to that by putting my pee wet clothes in the wash, leaving me with no choice but to stay the night. She explained that her flat-mate was away for the weekend and had locked her room, so I had the choice of the living room floor or sharing a bed with Marion. The double bed seemed far more comfortable and practical, as it saved us the effort of trying to make up a bed of cushions on the floor. Marion lent me a T-shirt and shorts to sleep in; as she was much bigger than me, the T-shirt came almost to my knees, but the shorts were not too bad a fit and at least stayed put when I stood up.
Normally, sharing a bed with a girl half my age who I had never met before would have never occurred to me, but I had done so many out of character things that evening and behaved so irresponsibly, that I didn't think twice about it. Marion seemed quite happy with the situation and I was not really in any state to argue. By then I was almost asleep on my feet and only too glad to collapse into bed and fell asleep, or passed out, almost instantly, so I did not even remember Marion undressing or getting into bed with me.
I clawed my way back to consciousness some time later. I had been having a confused dream where I was on a school outing and typically, I was bursting to go to the loo. In my dream the coach eventually stopped somewhere, which seemed to be just a big car-park. I was almost frantic to pee by then and I was leaving the children to their own devices while I slipped away to find somewhere to wee.
Because I could not find any loos, I was preparing to squat behind a litter bin, starting to pull down my trousers, not caring who could see me, because I was just about to wet myself anyway, when I woke up. I had no idea where I was, except that it was pitch dark and I was not in my own bed, but more importantly, I desperately, desperately, needed to wee, so badly that I was on the brink of wetting the bed. I clamped my hands between my legs, stopping the incipient flood with about a second to spare, and becoming further confused as I was wearing shorts instead of the panties or nothing that I usually wore in bed. With both hands pressed between my legs, I wasn't about to wet the bed any more, but I was still bursting for a wee, and my befuddled brain struggled to work out where I was, and how I could get to a loo. Before I came up with any answers, Marion gripped my shoulder and asked if I was all right and then the bits of the puzzle fell into place though the room was so dark I still could not see where the door to the loo was.
"I need the loo Marion, urgently! Can you put the light on please?' Marion was now lying right next to me, with one arm across me and she made no move to turn on any light. "I was dreaming I was on a school outing and I couldn't find the ladies loos," I continued, "and I was so desperate I was about to wet myself, so I was going to squat behind a litter bin and wee. I woke up just as I was about to pull my pants down. Another second and I would have wet the bed. Now please put the light on so I can get to the loo, I'm absolutely desperate to pee, I can't hold on much longer!!"
Since I had told her about my bladder problems earlier in the evening and she knew that I had already lost it and wet my pants twice, I expected her to put the light on straight away and move over so I could dash to the loo. Instead she took me totally by surprise and moved closer to me, put one arm round my shoulders and slid her other hand up my leg until it she was pressing against my hand, which was just about controlling my bursting bladder. "Oh Niccy, please hang on a few seconds longer, let me help you hold your wee. I'm sorry, I can't help it, a tiny bladder like yours simply drives me wild, I so want to feel you holding your wee just for a few minutes." She had now pressed her hand hard between my legs, moving mine out of the way and her fingers were hard against my wee hole. I was so taken back by what she was doing that I made no attempt to resist. She was bigger than me and was now hugging me tightly to her, cupping my breast with her left hand. She was also making an excellent job of helping me hold back my wee and I was afraid that if she suddenly removed her hand I would lose control and pee the bed.
Once I got over the initial shock of what she was doing and I had never had any sort of lesbian relationship before, I had to admit that it felt quite nice, particularly having someone holding between my legs for me when I was desperate to pee. "Please Marion," (I had been about to say: 'don't do that' - but instead I said) "don't let go without warning me, I don't think I can hold my wee without your help." She responded by pressing her fingers harder against me, at the same time moving her hand slowly round in small circles. Not only was she holding me back as well as I could myself, she was starting to stimulate my clitoris through the thin, smooth fabric of my shorts. She was also stroking my breasts and I was not surprised when I felt her gently kissing me. Because I was still quite drunk and sleepy, I was not repulsed by any of this, as I might have been if stone cold sober, but just let her get on with it, while my body began to respond to her attentions. I wanted her to continue, but the problem was I still desperately wanted to wee and however hard she was holding between my legs, nothing except a wee was going to ease the painful pressure in my full bladder. "Marion, please try not to press on my stomach, I'm so desperate it's hurting." She responded by pressing harder between my legs, which, I had to admit, felt wonderful and brought me close to a minor orgasm as she continued to stroke my clit and this took my mind off my over full bladder for a few moments, until I realised that if I did actually come, I might well lose control and wet myself. The only thing I could think of saying was incredibly hackneyed, but absolutely true; "Stop it, I like it so much that I'm afraid Ill come and that will make me wet the bed." Marion didn't answer, she just carried on as if I'd not said anything, leaving me with no choice but to grit my teeth and try to hang on to my full bladder, determined that I was not going to wet myself again. A renewed surge of desperation almost foiled this resolution and I automatically grabbed between my legs, trying to push Marion's hand out of the way, or help it press harder into my crutch.
By this time I could just see where the door was and had remembered that the loo was just across the hall and nothing mattered any more except getting in there and relieving my poor little bursting bladder. I struggled away from Marion's grasp, threw off the covers and made a run for the loo, still holding between my legs. I was in too much of a hurry to find the light switch, but I could just see the loo door and knew the loo itself was directly opposite, so I could find it in the dark, or by feel, if necessary. I had just dropped onto the loo seat when Marion turned on the light and naked except for a pair of panties, stood watching me as I savoured the glorious relief as my pent-up wee gushed out. My bladder emptied and feeling very much relieved, but also up in the air after coming close to an orgasm and then breaking off, I pulled up my shorts and looked at Marion, not knowing what to say or do. From the dismayed expression on her face, she didn't know what to say either.
Then we both started to apologise together, Marion for what she had done to me in bed, me for running out on her in the middle of it. I was aroused and wanted to have Marion's hand between my legs again, bringing me to a climax. I cut off her explanations by hugging her tightly and pulling her back into the bedroom.
"It wasn't what you were doing that made me run," I explained, "I just had to go to the loo, I couldn't bear to hold on to my wee for another second. Even with you holding me and that was gorgeous, I couldn't hold it another second and my stomach was hurting so much, I was afraid you would press on it and made my bladder burst." Back in bed, I pressed myself against Marion, my face between her ample breasts then started sucking her nipple as she began stroking me between the legs again. Now I was able to relax and enjoy it, I could fully appreciate how expert she was with her fingers, far better than any man I had ever had. I was squirming about, rubbing myself against Marion, pressing one leg between her legs, when she gently pushed me away and put my hand inside her panties. "Can you help me wait now Niccy? I haven't been since I got to the pub, I've been holding my bladder back until I was a desperate as you were. Feel my swollen bladder, that will tell you how badly I want to go. Gently! Or I'll be the one who wets the bed!"
The hard swollen bulge of her abdomen, contrasting to the soft roundness of the rest of her body, told me just how desperate she was and I responded by holding her as she had been holding me. Marion's stroking and her kisses were bringing me to the brink of an orgasm again and I responded, trying to return some of the pleasure she was giving me, while also holding back her wee. Once my orgasm started it went on and on, as her fingers pressed into me and I was just conscious of Marion also reaching a climax. I kept pressing my fingers against her wee hole as hard as I could, afraid that she would lose control of her full bladder and wet the bed and I was determined to stop that if I could. Eventually we both finished and lay in each others arms as we came back to earth. Marion was wet with excitement between the legs, but as far as I could tell, she had not let her wee go.
As normality returned, I felt Marion tense and cross her legs, though I was still pretending to hold back her wee for her. "Can I pee now Niccy? I'm not as desperate as you were, but I want to relax and go to sleep now." I couldn't understand why she had to ask my permission, but I readily agreed and by some sort of unspoken mutual consent, I went with her into the loo. She seemed to want me to and quite frankly, I was curious as to how much wee her bladder was holding. She had drunk more that me and I had been to the loo about ten times, desperate to pee every time, so I could not believe she was holding that amount of wee. Well, perhaps she was, because I had never heard anyone wee like she did, just going on and on, for what seemed to be at least five minutes, starting with a real gush and then slowing down to a more normal stream, but still more than I could do. Mind you, I had not made a habit of sharing a loo with anyone, so I didn't have much to compare it with, but I could easily believe that she'd been holding ten times as much wee as I could.
"That must have been a world record," I joked as she dried herself.
"I should at least have timed it, if not measured the volume," she replied, "I knew my bladder was bursting, but I didn't realise it was that full. It could easily have been a personal best, if not a world record. There are some real monster bladders out there, you know." I didn't say any more at the time, as I just wanted to curl up in bed with her and come to terms with what had happened between us that night.
I stayed the whole weekend with Marion, talking about what had happened and finding out more about her. She had finished a two year relationship with another girl, who had just moved out. The locked bedroom was a study room, as they had always shared one bed and Marion had locked it to hide the truth and as a means of getting me to share her bed. She was always turned on by seeing other people, particularly women, desperate to wee and when she saw how often I was going to the loo in the pub, she just had to get to know me better. My frantic performance in the taxi had driven her wild and she couldn't believe her luck when that resulted in me having to stay in her flat.
We became close friends and while we continued to live apart, we would spend most weekends together. I wasn't really ready for a full-blown relationship and was also wary of any of my pupils parents finding out that their teacher was living with a girl half her age. (I teach in a conservative area, where anything except straight relationships are frowned upon.) Marion introduced me to the Internet and the family of people there who were interested in bladder desperation, wee, water-sports, call it what you like - and made me realise that I had always had a latent interest, noting how often other people went to the loo and worrying if their bladders were bursting. She taught me to realise that my tiny bladder, which I had always regarded as an affliction, was just as much an attraction to some as big breasts or a pretty face and not to be ashamed of it.
It was Marion who gave me the confidence, though hiding behind the anonymity of the Internet, to share my experiences with others. Go to Part 1


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